


A Welcome Interruption

by justmattycakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Canon Compliant, F/M, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Missing Scene, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Smut, Stake out to make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmattycakes/pseuds/justmattycakes
Summary: Aurors Harry and Ron are stuck on assignment - a boring and lonely stakeout with no end in sight. To make matters worse, Harry is about to miss his own birthday! While he's no stranger to disappointment, he would much rather be spending tonight in the Burrow, drowning in treacle tart and in the arms of his lovely wife. Will this year be a total loss? Or will rising quidditch star and amateur sleuth Ginny Weasley save the day?Written for the HP Birthday Challenge on the Harry/Ginny Discord
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59





	A Welcome Interruption

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: language & smut & treacle tart

Harry 

Harry stared through the omnioculars, his vision trained on the two exits at the front of the building and the balcony along the side. The lenses combined the images into a composite so he could cover the entire building without so much as turning, which made the stakeout very convenient. And boring.

It had been two weeks since he'd seen Ginny, stuck on rotating shifts with Ron as they waited for their target to leave. Robards had issued strict orders that one of them had to be watching the building at all times — which he emphasized _quite_ clearly — despite the monitoring charms that they'd laid over every inch of the surrounding area.

So he watched the side of a building for twelve hours a day while refreshing the _homenum revelio_ auto-caster that the department had assigned him. Two weeks without Ginny's touch, two weeks without her fingers running through his hair or the warmth of her lips or…

The door behind him opened, and Harry almost dropped the omnioculars. “Hey, did I miss anything good?” Ron asked, peeking his head into the room.

Harry let out a huff, “Let's see, he's still alone and still hasn't left the building. Nope, must have saved all the excitement for you.”

“Can't wait. And I thought the paperwork would be the boring part of the job.” Ron scratched at the back of his neck, “Hey, I left you some dinner out in the kitchen. Hop off early today, I’ll cover the last half hour.”

“You don't have to do that,” Harry scoffed.

“I know, but I'd like to. It's your birthday, mate.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Harry said, feeling dazed. Was it _really_ his birthday already? The days were slipping together, one slog of uneventful boredom after another.

He wondered what Ginny was up to now. Was she angry with him for being away so long? He’d never expected this job to last past three days.

For Harry, ‘nothing birthdays’ were a familiar experience, at least during his years at Privet Drive. But he'd since grown accustomed to the crowded table at the Burrow and having Molly fuss over him. He sighed and stood to stretch, wallowing in his rotten luck.

He _would_ miss his own birthday.

Ginny’s birthday was coming up soon, so it wasn’t a total loss. If this bloody assignment wasn’t over by then, Harry would just hand in his notice and walk out, a free man.

In the kitchen, Ron had gone to a lot of effort to bring the birthday atmosphere to Harry. There was a freshly made steak and kidney pie, the steam still curling from the pie vents as the outside shimmered with a warming charm. Ron had tried Cornish pasties, which were a little misshapen, but that made them even better.

On top of all that, Ron made Harry’s favorite — treacle tart — displayed in the center of the table. Harry’s breath caught in his chest, and he leaned over to admire the sweet and citrus-y scent, instantly transported back to feast days in the Great Hall, or celebrating with the Weasleys.

Perhaps he was much luckier than he thought.

* * *

Ginny 

Two weeks. Two excruciatingly long weeks.

Ginny sighed, wanting to thump her forehead against the table in defeat. When Harry had gone on this mission, she’d never expected him to miss his own birthday. Things didn't always work out, of course, but it still stung like a fresh wound.

If there was even a chance of it working, Ginny would have it out with the Head Auror and demand that he allow Harry and Ron to come home. She had already tried to convince Hermione to use her connections in the Ministry, but stopped arguing after the first ten minutes of Hermione's impassioned lecture on the complexities of interdepartmental jurisdictions.

So she sat alone, the place setting looking absurd on the otherwise empty dining table. It was much too large a space for just one.

When they had chosen furniture for their new home, Harry had wanted a table long enough to host all their friends, craving the community he’d experienced at the Burrow. His enthusiasm was contagious, so Ginny had laughed and agreed, spinning into Harry's warm chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

But there was no one to hold her close now, no one to warm their empty home or disturb the lingering silence. Ginny exhaled and stood, grabbing her dinner and heading back into the kitchen.

At first, the worst part of being away from Harry was trying to fall asleep alone. She had grown accustomed to the way their bodies fit together, cuddled beneath the blankets, his hand at her hip. So she trained harder out in the paddock behind the house; flying longer, taking fewer breaks, doing more drills. Anything to keep her mind off of missing Harry.

Exhaustion made a poor bedfellow, but at least she could sleep.

After that, the worst parts were the moments when she forgot that she was alone, turning to call out to Harry or wanting to show him something interesting she’d read. Then she would remember and feel silly for forgetting in the first place. The feeling would pass, leaving only sadness and emptiness behind.

Then two days ago, the worst part became the endless apologies over floo and dozens of letters she sent over floo cancelling Harry’s birthday — a surprise party that she’d planned for the last month.

But all of that paled in comparison to the current ‘worst part’ — she was leaving tomorrow afternoon for a week and a half of pre-season training. That meant a month without seeing Harry or hearing his voice, a month without feeling his touch linger against the small of her back, or the scent of his neck as she nuzzled against him.

In a swirl of light, an otter appeared on the counter beside Ginny, and she nearly dropped her plate in surprise.

"No word from the boys — Robards insists it won't be long now, but he's given me that answer four days in a row. I threatened an injunction for violating wizarding labor laws on unjust confinement, but he reminded me they agreed to the assignment, so I've got no legal footing," said the otter in Hermione's voice, sounding nearly as frantic as Ginny imagined its counterpart was. "I've got another few ideas I'm working on, so don't give up hope yet!"

"Don't bother, we'll just see them for my birthday, if they're even…" Ginny began, but the Patronus had already disappeared and she was once again alone. Wonderful.

Once Ginny had washed the dishes, she looked around their small cottage for something else to clean in order to distract herself, but she had followed this routine too often for many chores to remain. She threw out the RSVPs she’d received back, all of them disguised as fan mail forwarded from the Harpies — an unnecessary precaution, it turned out.

Next, she set the brush and pail to clean up the ash in the fireplace and set about opening a bottle of wine. There was a new mystery programme airing on the wireless tonight, so Ginny put her feet on the armrest and drank from the bottle, glad that this would kill at least an hour of time. It wasn’t what she’d expected for her last night before pre-season, but it was what she had, so she made the most of it.

The wireless crackled to life, the opening music of the programme reaching its suspenseful crescendo just as Ginny settled in to listen. It was the last episode of the series, and the programme’s heroine was due to catch the impostor, a saboteur who had impersonated a high ranking Ministry official to blackmail the Minister of Magic. 

_“... but how could you know? I took every precaution, I…”_

_“You made mistakes: the amortentia cologne, the missing cuff links, and that salacious letter from the Minister of Magic.”_

_“The letter? But how could you — I mean, what letter? I’ve never…”_

_“I found your secret cabinet, Oliver. We have enough evidence to put you in Azkaban for a decade. I want you to think about that as you make your statement to the MLE. And that, sir, is why you don’t cross Agnes Andrews.”_

The host returned, and Ginny switched the wireless off. A secret desk cabinet — ridiculous, but she was sure that mum would love it. Molly was probably already writing a letter to Ginny, telling her how she’d guessed Oliver was an impostor from the start, all from some silly comment during an episode three weeks ago.

There was a tap at the window, and Ginny stood to answer it, allowing the small tawny owl to hop inside. There was a note attached to its leg reminding her of tomorrow’s training session — as if she could forget — so she sat at Harry’s desk to jot down a quick reply.

It took a few tries to find his quill, but the inkwell remained elusive, and the little owl made an impatient sound as it crept slowly toward the birthday cake sitting on the counter.

Finally, Ginny found the drawer with the inkwell and wrote her reply, tying the note to the bird’s leg and sending it out into the gathering night. But as she placed the inkwell back into the drawer, Ginny noticed a small locked divider near the back. Intrigued, she pulled Harry’s keys from his ‘Second Best Mate’ mug — a gift from Ron — and tried them all until she opened the lock.

The divider slid back, revealing a second drawer hidden behind the first. It held a haphazard stack of notes and papers mixed along with larger case files. Was the drawer connected to Harry’s desk at work, like a vanishing cabinet? He never seemed to bring files to and from work, and the lock made sense for confidentiality.

“Sorry, Mr. Potter, but Agnes Andrews is on the case,” Ginny joked to herself, mimicking the heroine’s accent. She flipped through Harry’s documents and smiled at the little doodles that he’d drawn in the margins. “You’re mistaken if you think you can keep secrets from me. Now, where is the salacious letter from...”

But Ginny stopped, holding a bit of scrap paper up to the light. The curling script was familiar, and the address that the note listed was in a quiet part of wizarding London, away from the prying eyes of crowds. The only message, apart from the address, was the phrase, ‘Don’t forget your cloak!’, underlined in red ink. Ginny read the note three times before locking it back in Harry’s drawer, already decided on her next course of action.

Once she had dressed, Ginny stood before the mirror and put the final touches on her makeup. She turned this way and that, puckering her lips and checking her eyes. Everything had to be perfect. Her stomach flipped with nerves, but she quieted them. Bad idea or not, there was no one to stop her now.

Ginny recited the address in her mind and turned on the spot, leaving the house empty.

* * *

Harry 

Harry curled around the pillow and blanket, wishing he was at home in his comfortable bed with his lovely wife instead of this half-condemned hidey-hole in a forgotten part of wizarding London. The first few nights of the assignment, he'd enlarged the pillow to make it fluffier, but the spell would wear off in the middle of the night and leave him sleeping at an odd angle, a painful crick in his neck by morning.

Bloody Ministry budget tightening, everything was threadbare now after the free spending Fudge days. Now, he couldn't get extra quills without the requisition order signed in triplicate. Better to just accept that he'd be miserable and get on with it.

There was a soft popping noise, and Harry stirred, yawning. Had someone finally come to relieve him? Robards had insisted the assignment wouldn't last past a week, so he wouldn’t need a replacement. Maybe he'd left them so long as payback for all the reforms Harry and Ron had pushed through when they first joined the Aurors, but it was more likely that his boss just enjoyed getting a ride out of him. The wanker.

“Merlin's balls, what poor sod is getting stakeout duty now?” Harry asked, fumbling with his glasses.

“Shhh, it's me,” came a familiar voice, nearly bubbling with excitement.

“Ginny? What are you doing here? How did you even find…?”

But Harry forgot what he was going to say as she stepped into the moonlight, slipping out of her coat as she climbed into bed with him. She was wearing the red bra that he'd bought her for Valentine's Day, and the stocking and garter set that she'd bought last month when he pretended not to notice.

“Like what you see, Potter?” Ginny asked, smirking at Harry as he sat up and tried to wake his sleep addled brain. “It _is_ your birthday.”

Harry admired Ginny, drinking in the sight of her after two weeks of soul-crushing boredom. She moved further up the bed, pressing her hand against his chest and slowly pushing him back down.

“Lay down and relax, birthday boy,” Ginny said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Where's Ron?”

“Next door, he just started his shift, so it will be hours. The walls are a bit thin…”

“Muffle them, then.”

Ginny straddled him, sliding her hands under his shirt and feeling his chest. She made a satisfied sound, rolling her hips as she bit her lip.

“Did you miss me?”

Her voice was coy, but Harry was familiar with this game, and felt himself throb below her. "I definitely did," he said, casting a quick _muffliato_ at the wall and door that led to the kitchen and observation room.

Ginny lifted his shirt over his head, and Harry watched her move above him, the moonlight painting her in sharp contrast to the bedroom’s shadows. She trailed her fingers along his skin, leaving gooseflesh in her wake, and Harry felt himself throb again.

“Impatient,” Ginny chided, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. He could feel the heat of her core as she slid down his body, her eyes heavy-lidded as they found his, and it sent shivers across his skin. She reached below and trailed her fingers along his length, teasing lightly as Harry groaned.

“You know,” Ginny continued, “I had a party planned and everything. We can just reschedule that if you prefer…”

“Don’t you dare…” whispered Harry, his breath catching in his throat as she continued to move lower, her kisses now trailing the edge of his boxers.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to feel like I’d forgotten it,” she continued, her fingers curling around the fabric and dragging it downward. “I want my husband to feel properly appreciated.”

“I doubt that will be a… ah, fuck,” Harry moaned, feeling his body tense as she took him into her mouth. She hummed around him, moving slowly as his breathing quickened. After a few moments, she pulled away, licking him from base to tip.

“You were saying something?” she teased, moving her hand to his shaft and stroking him.

Harry shuddered, surrendering to her touch. “I doubt it. If I was, it isn’t important.”

Ginny laughed, taking him in her mouth again and bobbing her head as she gripped him, her eyes shining with hunger. Harry couldn’t match her stare, letting his head collapse into the pillow as he drifted into blissful abandon. She slowed after a minute, her motions languid as she released him with a puckered kiss.

She sat up, slowly peeling her clothes away until she revealed herself to him, magnificent in the moonlight.

“Ginny, you’re perfect,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her lips, her neck, her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his mouth to her breasts as he teased her nipples, tracing circles with his tongue.

She rubbed her core against him, grinding along his length as Harry struggled through a shuddering breath. “Ginny, I…”

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer. I need you, Harry.”

Ginny lowered herself onto him, her warmth enveloping him as they breathed together, each gasping as she took him inside of her. She leaned forward, collapsing her forehead against his as they each adjusted to the overwhelming sensation.

“I missed this… I missed you…” Harry mumbled, his brain fuzzy with pleasure.

“I missed you — just take it slow,” she said, kissing his neck and lips, her breath warm against his ear as she held onto him.

Harry kept his pace excruciatingly slow, trying to savor every moment, every breath, as they came together. It was more than physical, more than the pleasure that coursed through his body and turned his brain to mush. 

She was his everything, and as Harry searched for the words to tell her, he found that it wasn’t necessary. She already knew.

Time flowed around them, alternating between fast and slow, forward and backwards, linked in their hazy coupling as the world melted around them.

“Just like that,” she pleaded, their rhythm building and churning as they flowed together, “don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”

He would do anything for her — everything for her — whatever it took to make her happy. He lavished her with praise, whispered nothings in her ear that he hardly remembered or processed as he gave himself entirely to her.

“Right there, Harry, I’m almost there…”

There was a sound of frantic footsteps from the other room, and it took Harry a few moments to remember where he was and why he was there. None of it seemed particularly important at the moment, at least until the footsteps found their way to the bedroom door. The doorknob turned with a horrifying sound, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

“Shit… Wait, Ron, don’t...”

“The wanker’s finally leaving the building, we’ve got maybe thirty seconds before we need to… What the hell?” bellowed Ron as he burst into the room, realizing what was happening.

“Wait, Ron, just give me…” Harry struggled to say. Ginny, for her part, kept moving, grinding herself against him as she chased the sensation that built and spiraled around them.

“Fuck — we’ve got to make an arrest in less than a minute!” Ron yelled, slamming the door as he stumbled out of the room.

“I know, I’m coming!” Harry shouted back.

“Don’t tell me that!” Ron called back, banging his fist on the wall that separated the rooms.

“That’s not what I…” Harry tried to say, but Ginny rolled her hips just right, and Harry shuddered as she tipped him over the edge, catching his mouth in a hungry kiss.

After a moment — or maybe a lifetime — Ginny rolled off of him, panting as she ghosted her fingers over his chest. Merlin, he loved this woman. He reached up and trailed his hand along her face, cupping her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “You’re wonderful, did you know that?”

“And you’re being very unprofessional,” Ginny teased. “Don’t you have a dark wizard to catch? Better get down there before Ron comes in and hexes you.”

“Right, bullocks,” Harry managed, rousing himself from his post-coital stupor and fumbling for his pants. “Wish me luck.”

“My hero,” she laughed. “And Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me over on [ The Tumblr Hellscape ](https://justmattycakes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
